


Agent Coulson

by Persiflage



Series: Skoulson RomFest 2k16 [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Andrew is no longer Lash, Angst, Background Bobbi/Mack, Canon Disabled Character, Car Sex, Clothed Sex, Coulson's Robot Hand, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Serious About the Tissue Warning, I'm Sorry, Inhumans (Marvel), Mentions of Coulson/Price, Mentions of Daisy/Lincoln, Older Man/Younger Woman, On the Run, POV Alternating, POV Phil Coulson, POV Second Person, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Prompt Fic, Sex on a Car, Skoulson Romfest 2k16, Skoulson Sex Cabin, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, Superhero Registration Act, The Cocoon, The Retreat, Tissue Warning, Workplace Relationship, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-14 11:28:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5741998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The evolution of Agent Coulson's relationship with Daisy Johnson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Agent Coulson

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Skoulson RomFest 2k16 Day 5 Prompt _Agent Coulson_. The story picks up post-Maveth and continues into the future, including references to the fallout from the Superhero Registration Act. It presumes Coulson doesn't resume his role as Director but leaves Mack in charge.

1 – Subtle kindnesses 

You think Phil Coulson might be suffering from depression. He's become careless with his appearance, and for a man who used to appear every day in a neatly pressed suit, with a suitable tie and a button down shirt, carelessness in his dress is particularly noticeable. Even when he switched to wearing more casual jeans and button downs after he lost his hand, he still looked neat and tidy. But sometimes you catch him wearing the same shirt two days in a row, and the shirt looks like he might even have slept in it. Or not slept – because the dark rings around his eyes suggest he's not doing a lot of sleeping at the moment.

He's stopped shaving, too, since coming back from the other planet, and while you personally like the scruff on his face, you see Mack and May looking askance at him. You wish you were closer to Coulson these days, so you could tease him about the scruff making him look more rakish and handsome, so you could scrape your fingernails lightly over his cheek through the scruff, but he's not close to anyone right now.

On top of that, there's Lincoln. Your on-again-off-again relationship is apparently on again, at least for the moment, at least since you left England a week ago after holding the portal open long enough to let Coulson and Fitz return. You aren't sleeping with Lincoln, though he's hinted at it once or twice, but you let him kiss you and press his body against yours, although you're aware that he's more enthusiastic about this than you are, and you're sure that he'll notice eventually, but what that will mean in the long term, you don't know. You wish you cared more about how Lincoln feels – you do care about him, but not in a romantic way, which is what he now seems to want.

You think back to way Coulson behaved after you first outed yourself as a powered person – the way he made you grilled cheese, and brought you books and magazines to read while you were keeping to the vibranium cell on the Bus, and you think 'subtle kindnesses' – that's what he deployed, and you wonder if it'll work as well on him as it did on you.

You don't have his secret recipe for grilled cheese, of course, but you figure you can make grilled cheese with your own twist to it, so when lunchtime rolls around, you knock on the open door of his office (and you think it's a good sign that the door is open), then stroll in carrying a tray of food.

"Daisy." He acknowledges you listlessly, seeming uninterested in the reason for your presence.

"Phil," you say, carrying the tray across to the conference table. "I've made us some lunch."

"I'm not hungry," he says – predictably.

"No, well I am. Girl's gotta eat after – " You hold up your hand and waggle your fingers, indicating that you've been using your powers. As you'd hoped that brings a tiny spark of interest into his eyes, and you bite back a smile when he gets to his feet and comes to join you at the conference table.

"Daisy," he says, his voice thick with emotion when he sees the grilled cheese, which you've served up with thick slices of beef tomato and a bowl of chips apiece.

"It's only grilled cheese, Phil," you tell him.

He looks like he might cry so you step closer, reaching for his hand and, as you'd hoped, he allows you to embrace him. He doesn't cry, not for the moment, but he does hold you tightly as you hug him. You brush your cheek against his, then speak softly in his ear, "It's okay, Phil. Why don't we eat this before it gets cold – it's not so nice when the cheese congeals."

He makes a choked noise, that you think might be laughter, then slides into a chair, and you set the food in front of him, pass him a napkin, then place the tall glass of chocolate milk within reach. You sit beside him, and there's silence between you, but it doesn't feel awkward or uncomfortable – it just feels companionable. Eventually, though, he asks about your training, and you tell him in lavish detail, glad that he's showing interest.

Weeks pass, and you continue to bring Coulson lunch every day whenever you're at The Playground, although you're at The Cocoon at intervals now, working with Joey and Lincoln and Alisha to develop them into a team. One day you come back to your bunk after a two day visit to The Cocoon, to find the door's ajar and Coulson's sitting at the little table in the corner, and there's a scent of cheese in the air. He gets to his feet as you come in.

"Phil?" He looks better, you think – he hasn't shaved his face completely clean, but the hair there's neater, and you can smell his shower gel (your bunk is small, and the gel he favours has a strong, but pleasant, scent). And the shirt he's wearing is obviously clean. He still looks like he hasn't slept in a while, but on the whole, he looks more human today.

"Daisy," he says. "Bobbi said you were on your way back in, so I – uh – I made you a late lunch. Grilled cheese and tomato soup. I – um – I just wanted to say thank you for not giving up on me all this time."

"Friends don't give up on friends," you tell him, hanging up your jacket, then pulling off your boots. "You didn't give up on me before."

"Still – I'm grateful."

You nod, then cross the room to the table. "This your secret recipe grilled cheese?" you ask lightly, suddenly acutely aware of the heat of his body, how good he smells, and how much you've always wanted more from him.

"Yeah," he says, sounding shy.

"Good." You clasps his arm, rubbing your hand up and down it a couple of times, then sit down.

"Are you staying?"

"Do you mind?" he asks, still shy.

"Of course not." You gesture at your bed since there's only one chair in here, and he moves across the room to sit on it, his back against the wall.

As you eat, you talk, telling him about how well your team is shaping up now that Lincoln's decided to stick with transitioning new Inhumans rather than going out on the field. He listens attentively, putting in the odd question here and there, and generally sounding engaged.

"You look tired," he says when you finish eating, downing the last mouthfuls of the glass of milk he'd brought you, before you push up from the table.

"Yeah," you agree. "I don't spend much time sleeping when I'm at The Cocoon." You walk over to sit beside him on the bed. "I've just asked Mack for a permanent transfer there." You wait, unsure of what reaction to expect from him.

"That sounds like a wise move," he says after a long moment of silence. "You'll probably exhaust yourself less if you stay there, and only come here when you're needed for missions."

You nod, stifling a yawn. "I've also asked Mack if you can come with."

"What?" He sounds genuinely shocked by this bit of news.

"I've asked Mack if you can come with me to The Cocoon. Be my second in command there. I need someone to have my back, someone with experience, someone I can trust," you tell him, staring into his eyes. "In other words you."

"But – " he begins, then stops. "Daisy. I don't know what to say."

"Say 'Thank you, Daisy'," you tell him, cheekily. 

"Thank you, Daisy," he says, then slides his arms around you, and you hug him back tightly. He breaks down then, weeping softly into your neck, and you carefully manoeuvre the two of you around until you're lying down, arms wrapped around each other. He falls asleep after a while, and you think this might be the best thing for him.

Eventually you fall asleep yourself, and as you drift off, you can't help wishing you could do this all the time.

2 – A stolen kiss 

You and Coulson have been at The Cocoon for two weeks. You've been promoted to Commander Johnson in line with your greater responsibility as head of the Secret Warriors team, as Project Caterpillars is now known. You hadn't expected a promotion when Mack agreed to let you transfer to The Cocoon full time, and you'd considered rejecting it, but Coulson had persuaded you to accept, saying that you'd earned it and it would be better for your team if you held a higher rank than just Agent.

Coulson's your second in command, and you can tell that Lincoln's not happy about this, or the fact that Coulson transferred here with you, although his unhappiness about it has mostly manifested in the form of surliness towards Coulson and sulky comments to you. You've decided to give him a few more days to get over it, and then you'll speak to him if his attitude doesn't change. You need your team to be able to work together, even if they aren't all best buddies – there are too few of you yet to leave room for discord between team members.

You've persuaded Coulson to train with you in the mornings now that you don't have May to do Tai Chi with, and you think he seems happier now that he's away from The Playground and the painful memories associated with it. The two of you have just finished sparring and are heading to the showers together, and as you walk, you can't help admiring Coulson's body – he's dressed in a tank and shorts, like you, and the tank really shows off how powerful his arms are; you think it's just as well he can't read vibrations like you do, because otherwise he'd have an inkling of how aroused you always are by the end of your training sessions together. It doesn't help that you usually wind up pinning him to the mats, something he never seems to mind happening.

"Daisy," he says as the two of you are about to part ways in order to shower.

"Phil?"

"Could I take you out to dinner tonight?"

You give him a surprised look, but nod eagerly. "I'd like that," you tell him.

"Seven, okay?"

"Sure. How formal is this dinner?"

He looks you up and down appraisingly. "Not flashy," he says, but – " He hesitates, and you wait, curious to know what he's working up to asking. "Could you wear a dress, please?"

"Okay."

He gives you a rather shy smile, then thanks you quietly before heading into the guys' showers. You move into the women's showers, wondering why he wants to take you out to dinner – it's not your birthday, nor his, and you realise that you're going to have to make a real effort to focus today otherwise you'll be going off into daydreams.

AC-S-AC-S-AC

About an hour before you're due to go out with Coulson you head back to your quarters to change out of the jeans and button down you've been wearing all day. As you'd feared it hasn't been easy to stay focused today, but you've managed it, somehow.

You strip out of your clothes, then pull on your bathrobe before standing in front of your closet and trying to decide which of the very small handful of dresses you own to wear tonight. There's the red one you wore the first time you rode in Lola, there's the pink one you wore to the party at Quinn's villa in Malta, the blue and white striped one you wore around the time you last saw Miles, and a little black number you bought but haven't actually worn yet – the trouble is that it's got a plunging neckline, and you're not sure Coulson's ready for that yet. You eventually settle on the pink one – it's a bit classier than either the red or the striped ones, and you figure that will fit the bill best.

You pull the dress on its hanger from the closet and hook the hanger above the mirror, then pull out the appropriate shoes from their box on the closet's floor. Someone knocks on your door and you frown, certain it can't be Coulson this early.

You cross the room and pull open your door to see Lincoln standing there. The moment he sees you his eyes light up and he's inside your room before you can even speak. 

"Must be my lucky day," he says with a chuckle, and reaches for the belt on your robe. 

You slap his hands away. "It's really not," you tell him firmly.

He pouts. "Oh c'mon, Daisy. You don't think you're overdoing the whole hard-to-get routine?" 

You glare. "There's no routine," you tell him. "I'm not playing hard to get. I'm not interested in sex with you."

His eyebrows go up. "I don't believe you," he says. "You've been happy to kiss me before now. And I didn't have you down as a cock tease."

"Out," you snap, planting your hands on your hips. "I'm your superior officer, Lincoln, and if you say one more word along those lines, I'll send you to Mack and he can explain the rules to you."

He crosses his arms over his chest. "What rules?" he asks. 

"The rules that say you don't enter someone else's bunk uninvited and harass them because you think they owe you something," you tell him. "Now. Get. Out."

He scowls, glances around the room, and then spots your pink dress hanging up on the front of the closet. He frowns, then looks back at you. "You're going out with _him_ ," he says with a sneer.

"Lincoln, I am your commanding officer and what I do in my free time is my business and none of yours. Now get out before I throw you out. And I use the word 'throw' advisedly." Everything in your room is rattling faintly, and you wonder if it's enough of a hint for him to leave.

He glares at you. "You've changed Daisy," he says.

"So've you," you tell him, and point to the door.

He slouches across the room, flings the door open, then stomps out, slamming it closed behind himself.

You take several deep breaths to calm yourself down, then cross to your vanity and sit down to brush your hair and apply some subtle make-up before you get dressed. As you get ready for your dinner date with Coulson you find yourself wondering how much trouble Lincoln is going to make, or try to make, now that you've rejected him so comprehensively.

By the time Coulson comes to knock at the door of your quarters you've made up your mind to forget about Lincoln for the rest of the evening. You plan on having a pleasant meal with a man you care deeply about, and you're determined not to let anything ruin that.

AC-S-AC-S-AC

Dinner is good: the food is home-cooked and delicious, the restaurant is fairly quiet, and the company is excellent. Coulson's actually wearing a suit this evening, a pale grey one that you think might be the one he wore the first time you rode in Lola. You can't help hoping it is, because that trip was important – it's when you accepted Coulson's offer of a job working with SHIELD, as well as the first time you got to ride in a flying car, which are pleasant memories to recall.

After you've eaten, the two of you take a walk through the town, and while you don't actually hold hands, your arms brush against each other, and you can't help thinking how easy it would be to tangle your fingers in Coulson's and hold his hand. You don't, but the temptation's very strong tonight.

You're letting Coulson lead since he appears to know this town and you don't, and eventually he leads you to a river, and the bridge across it. The two of you walk into the middle and stop to lean your elbows on the parapet as you look down river towards the sea.

"There's something I need to tell you," he says, his voice warm in the darkness.

"Go on," you say.

He does, and proceeds to tell you, in very plain language, how much he cares about you, how much he _loves_ you, and how much he'd like to kiss you right now.

"I'm not stopping you, Phil," you point out when he's finished.

He moans softly, then wraps his arms around you and kisses you, and you moan in your turn because his mouth feels so good on yours. You press your body against his, aware of the taut stiffness of your nipples, and the way your sex is growing hot and slick, and also aware of how hard he's growing.

"Phil," you gasp before wrenching your face away. "Can we – " You pause, unsure of how to phrase this.

"Can we what, Daisy?" he asks, his voice soft and his hands gentle as they cup your face.

"Take it slow, just for now? Lincoln and I had a row this evening – he didn't take it well when I made it clear that I wasn't available."

"Are you okay?" he asks immediately.

"Yeah," you say. "I just hope he's not going to try to cause any trouble. I need his help to transition our new Inhumans, but I'm not going to let him stay if he's going to try to shit-stir." You lean into Coulson's chest, and his arms wrap around you again. "I think maybe we should keep our relationship on the down low for now, if you don't mind." You tilt your head to look at his face. "Is that okay? It's not that I'm ashamed of being with you, it's just – "

"It's okay, Daisy," he tells you, not waiting for you to finish explaining. "I understand perfectly, and of course we can keep the change in our relationship's status to ourselves for now. I don't want anything to undermine your new role."

"Thanks." You kiss him again, sliding your tongue past his lips and tracing it over the roof of his mouth. His arms tighten around you, and you make a mental note that he particularly likes that kind of kiss.

Eventually you pull apart, then head back to the parking lot where Lola's waiting – it's too cold to hang about for long out here.

AC-S-AC-S-AC

It's not until a month has passed that you and Coulson take the next step in your relationship. In the meantime you've made out a few times, sneaking into dark corners to kiss and caress out of sight of the others; Coulson's been very patient in waiting for you to move things forward, and one day you decide you're done waiting. You arrange for him to wait for you in your quarters, and then at dinner you tell everyone that you're going to get an early night because you've got a headache.

"Are you okay?" Alisha asks immediately.

You nod. "Yeah. Just adjusting to having more powered people around here these days," you say, smiling apologetically. "All these vibrations take some getting used to. I don't know if you guys know this, but you tend to be 'louder' – " You make air quotes. "than regular humans. I'll get used to it, but our numbers have doubled in less than a week."

The others accept your explanation, and while it's true that the increase in numbers of powered people has affected you, it's not actually so many that you're suffering from headaches – not yet. 

You tell them you'll see them for the morning briefing tomorrow, then head towards your bunk. You're barely out in the hallway when Lincoln catches up with you, and you stop dead and turn to face him, eyebrows raised in enquiry.

"I can give you something for your headache," he says, and you can hear he's trying to be conciliatory. 

"Thanks, but no thanks," you tell him. "I'll leave it, see how I am in the morning. A couple of extra hours in the quietness of my quarters should help."

His expression is sceptical, but to your relief he doesn't push you. "Well if you change your mind, you know where I am."

"I won't," you tell him. "But thanks. See you tomorrow."

"G'night Daisy." He turns and walks away, and you continue towards your quarters.

When you open the door, Coulson's standing in front of your bookcase, his hands clasped behind his back, and he turns to smile at you as you close and lock your door.

"Daisy," he says, his voice husky.

"Phil." You cross the room in quick strides and he turns fully around, opening his arms to you. You grab him and kiss him passionately, and he makes a pained noise – probably because you're grinding your hips against his as you kiss. His cock's hard against your thigh and you drop your right hand to cup him through his slacks, eliciting a moan of pleasure from him.

You continue kissing him while getting his pants undone, and he groans loudly once you wrap your hand around his cock – it's bigger than you anticipated, and you can't help moaning at this realisation.

The two of you side step towards your bed, hands and mouths busy until you finally pull apart to catch your breath and finish undressing. Coulson looks anxious for a few moments when you open his shirt and see his scar for the first time, but there's really no need for his anxiety – in your eyes, his scar is beautiful because it's a mark of his survival. You kiss your way down it, soft, butterfly kisses that you hope will reassure him, and indeed, by the time you reach the last inch of scar tissue, you can feel relaxation seeping into his vibrations.

"Lie down, Phil," you say, and he obeys with alacrity, then watches you, eyes dark with desire, as you open the drawer of your nightstand and take out a packet of condoms. You feel him watching you as you roll one down his cock, then he moans in obvious pleasure as you lower yourself down onto him.

"Daisy." He moans your name, and you think you've never heard anything more beautiful.

"Okay?" you ask once you've sunk all the way down.

He nods, and you squeeze his cock as you lift yourself back up, before sliding back down a second time.

He clasps your hips, holding you steady as you pick up speed, and you look down into his face, so familiar, and so dear to you. 

You come quickly, which is no surprise to you, although Coulson seems startled, and you begin to move even faster now, squeezing your muscles around his cock as you work him towards a climax of his own.

When he comes he cries out your name and you're glad that your quarters are on a different floor to everyone else's, or there'd be no chance of keeping this a secret.

You stretch yourself out atop his body and he wraps his arms around you, then kisses you languidly.

"Okay?" you ask.

"Yeah," he says softly. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me, Phil," you tell him. "Are you staying the night?"

"If you don't think that would be too risky?"

You shake your head. "I'd rather you stayed," you say, and he looks pleased.

You remain lying on top of him until you start to feel chilly as the sweat on your body dries, cooling you down. You move off him, and it requires little persuasion from you for him to settle on his side so you can spoon up behind him. You wrap your left arm around him, then grab the comforter with your free hand and drag it up over you both, before you wrap your other arm around him too. 

As you feel yourself drifting into sleep, you recall Cal saying 'Best day ever' and you smile as you silently echo the sentiment. 

3 – Under cover of darkness 

"Phil?"

"Mmm?"

"What are you doing?"

He chuckles in the darkness, which sends a tingle down your spine. "What do you think I'm doing?" he asks, his voice sounding more velvety, somehow.

"Well, it feels like you're taking my panties off," you say, trying to maintain your visual survey of the mark's house; it's not easy, even with the infrared goggles you're using.

"That's what I'm doing," he tells you.

"In the middle of an op?" you ask.

His hands stop halfway down your legs, with your panties bunched between them. "I think you'd better put me on report when we get back, Commander Johnson," he tells you.

You can't quite bite back a soft moan at his tone – it's downright dirty, and you can feel yourself growing aroused.

"I think I shall have to, Agent Coulson," you say in your sternest tone.

You feel him rest his head against your stomach for a moment, before your panties resume their journey down your legs. You lift your feet up, one after the other, so he can get your underwear off, and you hear a brief rustle which you easily identify as him pocketing your panties – and even though you can't _see_ him doing that in the darkness of the tac van, you can perfectly well picture it, and you feel the heat and moisture increase between your thighs, and your nipples stiffening.

"Phil, whatever you're planning on doing now I'm knickerless, you'd better get on and do. Because if this mission gets screwed up because you were fucking me or eating me out at the crucial moment, Mack is gonna have both our heads."

"Yes ma'am." He accepts this warning with apparent equanimity, his breath's hot on your ear as he stands behind you. You're suddenly glad you're not wearing your fieldsuit (the two of you were undercover earlier this evening). You feel him lifting the back of your dress, as he presses his hips against yours, and you can't help moaning as you feel the hardness of his thick prick against your ass, before he guides it into your wet sex.

"Phil!" you gasp, your voice higher pitched than normal. You shift your feet, spreading your legs a little wider, and he pushes deeper into you, before withdrawing slowly.

"This is the most unprofessional thing I've ever done," he tells you, and you can hear the desire thick in his voice, as well as feel his arousal in his vibrations, both of which turn you on even more.

You can only grunt an acknowledgement as he pushes his cock back into you, his balls slapping against your ass when he bottoms out.

"I'm not going to last," he tells you.

"Just as well," you mutter, "given how unprofessional you're being."

"You could've ordered me to stop," he observes.

"No, I really couldn't," you admit, with probably too much honesty.

"Oh." He begins to thrust properly, his arms wrapped tightly around your midriff as his hips move harder and faster.

You continue to watch the house across the street, trying not to let the fact that Coulson's fucking you in the back of tac van in the middle of an op, distract you from said op. It's not easy, especially when you come so hard you feel the entire van rocking.

"Fuck, Daisy!" he gasps behind you, then moves his hips even faster, fucking you so hard and deep that you have to fight to stay quiet, to not scream your pleasure to the world. 

You come a second time, and then you feel his cock throbbing and pulsing inside you, and you moan at the sensation. He stays behind you, his cock buried deep inside you, for several heartbeats, before he finally pulls out, and you bite back another moan at the loss.

He courteously cleans you up before moving away, and five minutes later the mark's on the move, and you're out in the street, following him on foot, giving no sign you've just been fucked hard. 

You resolve, once you get back to The Cocoon, to have words with your lover about his timing, however. 

4 – A moment’s respite 

You watch Daisy, curled up asleep on the couch, from the corner of your eye. You want to watch her properly, but it wouldn't be fair, considering she fell asleep without warning. The two of you are in an anonymous safehouse in the far north of the country, enjoying a moment's respite from the fun and games that is involved in defying the Superhero Registration Act. (It's no fun at all, being wanted fugitives, and Daisy, despite her initial reluctance to have you along because she didn't want both of your lives to be turned upside down, has seemed very grateful for your company. Glad to have someone to watch her back, as she'd phrased it.) 

You massage your upper left arm, which is aching from the punches you threw earlier when three guys tried to mug the two of you in a dark alley when you went out to pick up essential groceries. Your robotic left hand is very powerful, it's true, but your left arm is an ordinary flesh and blood one, and it's feeling the ache from you using your hand so hard earlier.

Your eyes have slipped closed while you try to ease the ache from your muscles, so you don't spot Daisy waking up, and the first you know of it is when her right hand curls lightly around your left elbow.

"Let me," she says softly, and you open your eyes to see her kneeling beside your chair. A part of you wants to argue, wants to suggest that she go back to sleep, but the rest of you knows she'll help to ease the ache far better than your efforts can, so you nod, and she gets to her feet, then surprises you by straddling your lap.

"Daisy?" you say uncertainly.

She smiles at you. "Shh, Phil," she says softly. "Relax, I'm not gonna molest you."

You smile back, and allow yourself to relax into the chair as she sets her hand on your shoulder and begins the combination of massage and directed vibrations that you both know works very well at easing sore muscles.

By the time she's finished, your arm's so relaxed it feels like a wet noodle, and you make no objection when she suggests you both go to bed and get some rest in more comfort.

Being on the run is no fun at all, but being on the run with Daisy makes it infinitely more bearable.

5 – Coming home 

Coming back to The Cocoon, after an obligatory stop at The Playground to debrief with Mack and May, feels like coming home, which isn't something you'd really expected. You were at the Playground longer than you'd been at The Cocoon before you and Daisy went on the run, so you'd expected the former to feel more like home. 

You wonder, as Daisy drives Lola into the garage at The Cocoon if it feels more like home because this is the place where your relationship (already always intense) became intimate. You'd chosen to remain as just an Agent after Mack had agreed to officially become the Director of SHIELD following the trip to the alien planet, and that change, together with Daisy's promotion to Commander Johnson as she took outright control of the Secret Warriors project, had finally given you the courage to declare your feelings for her in plain language (instead of comparing her to your ridiculous flying car). 

You recall that The Cocoon is the place where the two of you first made love (she'd snuck you into her quarters early one evening, after pleading a headache from 'too many vibrations'), and that it's been the scene of many highly inappropriate makeout sessions, not to mention energetic fucking or tender lovemaking, depending on the mood the two of you were in.

You climb out of Lola, and Daisy pops her trunk, and then before either one of you can head inside, the garage seems to be filled with a flood of people – Joey, Andrew, Alisha, Yo-Yo, and other Inhumans hurry to welcome Daisy, and you, back with hugs, laughter, a few tears (from Andrew), and back-slapping (you warrant fewer hugs than Daisy, but you don't resent that).

"It's good to have you back, boss," Joey tells Daisy, and everyone agrees energetically.

"It's good to be back," she tells them. "And we'll have a formal debriefing in the morning, but unless anyone needs to tell me anything urgent – as in life-or-death – Phil and I are gonna grab a shower, some dinner, and an early night because we've been on the road for hours."

"There's nothing life-and-death," Alisha tells them, and you're relieved to hear it. 

"Good," Daisy says.

Andrew lifts your bags from Lola's trunk, and Joey volunteers to make you dinner, and Daisy accepts gladly.

She links her arm through yours as you head to her quarters, well your joint quarters now, and you thinking longingly of a hot shower, hot food, and a warm bed with Daisy in your arms, and realise that yes, this is home.

6 – An absent look or touch 

You're sitting at the desk in your office, working on the next op, and enjoying the fact that you and Phil are no longer on the run because the Superhero Registration Act spectacularly backfired on the government. You've only been back a couple of days, and it's taking you a little while to settle back in – nearly a year on the run has had an impact on both of you – in particular, you're both finding it hard to relax properly.

Coulson comes in carrying two mugs of coffee and what looks like a plate of cake on a tray, and you find yourself smiling up at him as he sets the tray down on your desk.

"Hey," he says, smiling back.

"Hey yourself. What's this?" She nods at the cake, and he smirks.

"Daisy, I know we've been on the run for a year, but surely you haven't forgotten what cake looks like."

You roll your eyes at him, and his smirk becomes a full-blown grin. "Apparently Joey made it," he tells you. "It's a welcome back cake."

You frown. "Aren't we supposed to share it, or something?"

Coulson shakes his head. "Nope, Joey made more than one, it appears, and this one's just for us." 

"Wow." You grin up at him as he takes the two mugs of coffee off the tray and sets them to one side, then sets the plate with the cake on it, and two more smaller plates, in front of you. He holds out a cake knife, handle first. 

"You want to do the honours?" he asks.

"You mean you're not gonna use that laser finger of yours to slice it up, Phil?" you tease.

It's his turn to roll his eyes now – his non-existent laser finger is an ongoing joke between the two of you. You take the knife from him and stand up, then carefully slice the sumptuous looking chocolate cake into equal pieces, lifting two of the slices onto the smaller plates. Coulson pulls two napkins from his pocket with a dramatic flourish, and you laugh.

"Dork," you say.

"Yeah, Daisy, but I'm your dork."

"True," you say, absently brushing your fingers over his wrist before you accept one of the napkins from him. 

He leans in and kisses you lightly on the corner of your mouth, and you think about how this wouldn't have been possible a year ago, before the Superhero Registration Act – back then you'd had to be discreet and carry on your relationship in secret. But no one had been the least surprised, when the two of you got back, to see that you were openly together as a couple. 

You seat yourself in your chair again, and Coulson moves the plate of cake aside, then sits on the corner of the desk, and you raise your eyebrows at him. "Make yourself at home, Phil, why don't you?" 

He grins at you, his mouth already full of cake, and he absently brushes his leg against your knee as he makes himself comfortable. 

The two of you eat your cake and drink your mugs of coffee in silence, but it's the companionable silence of two people who've been through hell together and survived together, and you think that even if you and Coulson hadn't been a couple at the outset, the experience would probably have driven you into each other's arms. You're glad, though, that the two of you had already been together for six months first – it meant there was no awkwardness about sharing safehouses or motel rooms. In fact, you'd felt safer, knowing that Coulson was there, and that you could trust him to have your back no matter what.

"Okay, Phil, coffee break's over, back to work," you say once you've finished your cake and coffee.

"Such a harsh task mistress," he says, pretending a grumpiness you know he doesn't feel. You smirk at him, as he slides off the desk, then grabs your mug and plate to put them on the tray again. 

You brush your hand against his knee as he turns away, and he turns back, sets the tray back down on your desk, then he cups your face in his hands before leaning down to kiss you in a very deliberate fashion. You kiss him back, sliding your tongue into his mouth and stroking it against the roof, and he groans quietly.

"C'mon guys, get a room," says a voice from the doorway, and you reluctantly pull your mouth from Coulson's to grin at Bobbi.

"Welcome back," she says, crossing the room to join you and Coulson.

"Thanks, Bobbi," you say, offering your hand, but she scorns it, moving in for a hug instead. "It's good to see you, too."

"Phil," she says, and he offers his hand, too, but she goes for the hug with him as well, and you can tell he's surprised by the gesture, but doesn't mind it – he and Bobbi have known each other a long time, after all.

"Not that we're not pleased to see you, but why are you here?" you ask Bobbi once she's released Coulson.

"Mack sent me over," she says. "Thought I could help you guys get up to speed with stuff, since your people were scattered far and wide over the last year."

You sigh. It hadn't been easy for any of you – most of your team had gone into hiding in twos and threes – fortunately they hadn't had their names and faces plastered all over the internet and everywhere else, on a Wanted poster. You could've lived without that particular experience since it was what had prompted you and Coulson to go on the run during the last year.

"That'd be great," you tell Bobbi. "Are you sure you don't mind being here rather than at The Playground, though?"

She tilts her head, eyebrows raised inquisitively, and you can't help smirking at her. "Bobbi, your feelings for Mack, and his for you, aren't something you can hide from me."

She glances at Coulson, who's also smirking, and Bobbi rolls her eyes. "Can anyone keep anything secret from you?" she asks you, and you chuckle.

"Not easily," you tell her.

"Well, Mack and I are both grown-ups, we'll cope," she says, and you nod. 

"I'll get Joey to find you a room," you tell her, "and you can get settled in. We'll catch up with you after lunch – say fourteen hundred hours, in Briefing Room A."

Bobbi nods. "I'll see you there, boss." She goes out, and you look up at Coulson to see him looking down at you with a ridiculously adoring look.

"Phil," you groan. "You really have to rein in the adoration thing. It's embarrassing."

He flushes, looking guilty. "Sorry boss."

You nod. "You're forgiven – this time."

He picks up the tray again and goes out with it, and you chuckle softly once he's out of earshot. Though it is very embarrassing when he gets his adoration face on, it's also very flattering too, because you know that he admires you for your capabilities as a leader, as much as for the fact that you're a superhero.

You shake your head, then settle back down to the pile of files on your desk.

7 – While driving or in/around a car 

"Phil." Your tone is chiding, but Coulson still tries to give you a "who me?" look. "Do you want me to crash Lola?" you ask.

He looks positively alarmed at the idea. "Don't crash Lola," he says urgently.

"Then stop molesting me when I'm trying to drive," you say. "Let me find somewhere to pull over, and then you can get your wicked on."

He smirks, and withdraws his hand from your thigh, and you sigh in quiet relief. It's not that you don't appreciate his attentions – you _love_ his attentions – but you really don't want to crash Lola because he's distracted you in his attempts to get you off while you're driving.

You spot a turning, and a less frequented side road, so you head along it until the highway's out of sight, then you kill Lola's engine, before giving Coulson an expectant look. He grins at you, and you can feel his arousal colouring his vibrations, and as always, it turns you on, too. You stretch exaggeratedly, knowing that the action is pulling your already tight sundress even more tightly against your body, and you wonder if he guesses that you're not wearing any underwear today. 

Even as you're thinking that and your nipples are tightening, he leans over and kisses you hard and fast, and open-mouthed, and you moan into his mouth as you feel your sex growing slicker. You moan again when his hand lands on the bare skin of your thigh beneath the hem of your dress. He slides his fingers up your leg while still kissing you, and you admire the way he doesn't miss a beat.

"Daisy!" he gasps, suddenly pulling his mouth from yours.

"Hmm?"

"You're not wearing any panties," he observes.

"Nope."

"Fuck." He leans back in and begins kissing you again, rather more aggressively this time, not that you mind. You curl your hand around the back of his neck, holding him steady as you bite on his bottom lip, before pulling back to soothe his lip with your tongue.

You groan and drop your head to his shoulder as he slides two fingers into your hot, wet sex before proceeding to fingerfuck you. He drives you to two orgasms, leaving you feeling satiated, even a little dopey, and then he says, "Daisy, you need to let me fuck you, right now."

You mumble an agreement, and he pulls away from you, and you look up. "What?" you ask, because his expression is especially heated right now.

"On Lola's hood," he says.

Your eyes go wide with surprise, and you no longer feel dopey – a thrill of excitement zings down your spine, and you clench your pussy tight, because that is such a great idea.

"That will totally violate the 'Don't touch Lola' policy," you say with a giggle as you both exit the car and move around to the hood.

"Mmm," he says, "but special people do get to touch her."

"And very special people get to fuck in or on her?" you ask.

He hums agreement as he reaches for the zipper at the back of your dress and slides it down. He makes a choked sound and you look over your shoulder at him, smirking at his wide-eyed discovery that you're bra-less. 

"Fuck, Daisy," he moans, and spins you around to kiss you with obvious hunger. 

You kiss back just as aggressively, while unfastening his slacks, which his cock's threatening to burst from, he's so hard. He groans into your mouth when you get his dick free of his pants – it seems even bigger than usual, but you suspect that's just lust colouring your perception. He bites down on your bottom lip, then pulls away from you and you lift your arms up so he can strip off your sundress. 

"Daisy." His voice is so full of longing and arousal that you reach out and grab him, one hand on his cock, the other on his hip. 

"C'mon, then, Phil. Fuck me," you say in stern tones.

He moves in close and guides you backwards onto Lola's hood, and you sprawl there, legs spread invitingly wide. "You look gorgeous," he tells you, so breathless and aroused that you feel like you might come just from the sound of his voice.

He moves between your legs, and guides the head of his cock up and down your sex a couple of times, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He gets the message, and pushes into you, both of you groaning, because it doesn't matter how many times you do this, it still feels sensational when his big dick's filling your tight pussy.

You suspect the angle's not quite right for him, judging by the look on his face, so you unwrap your legs, and lift them up and, immediately getting the idea, he hooks your legs over his shoulders, bending your body nearly double, but you don't care because his cock's hitting you really deep, and it feels so good.

"Yeah Phil," you mumble. "Right there. Fuck me hard, Phil."

He grunts, then picks up the pace of his thrusts, and you can feel your orgasm closing in, but you can tell Coulson's not quite there yet, so you reach down with your right hand and begin to vibrate the air around your clit and his thrusting cock, and that's enough to tip you both over the edge, and you come so hard you could swear you're seeing stars. His cock's still pulsing inside you and you tighten your muscles around it, making him groan your name.

He lowers your legs carefully, and you wrap them back around his waist, holding him in place – his cock's still half hard inside you, and you reckon it wouldn't take much to get him hard again. (The best thing about the GH drug, aside from bringing him back to life, is his shortened refractory period.)

He leans down and kisses you tenderly. "Okay?" he asks.

"I'm good, Phil," you assure him. 

"Good." He kisses you again, then withdraws, and you can't help moaning softly at the loss of his cock filling you. But then he eases you lower down Lola's hood, before kneeling down and your head thumps softly back onto the metal beneath you when he lowers his mouth to your thigh and starts lick and nip at your flesh.

As he works his mouth over your pussy, you can't help thinking that it's a good thing you set off from The Cocoon in plenty of time this morning, otherwise the two of you would be very late for your appointment. As it is, there's time for this – for a good, hard fuck on Lola's hood, followed by Coulson eating you out – before you have to be on your way again.

8 – On the edge of consciousness 

You hover on the edge of consciousness, trying to pull yourself fully awake, and hearing a low voice speaking nearby. There's a litany of familiar noises in the background – the machinery of a hospital trying to keep someone alive, and it takes you an embarrassingly long time to recognise that it's you – you were shot, caught up in a firefight along with Daisy and a couple of her team. You begin to panic as consciousness comes back abruptly, and you realise that you don't know what happened to Daisy – was she hurt too? 

Almost immediately a warm hand curls gently over your right hand, and a voice speaks near your ear. "It's okay, Phil, relax, you're safe. We're all safe."

You force your eyes open and look up into Daisy's face: it's grimy, and her mouth is set in a hard line, but there's a soft expression in her eyes.

"Daisy." You manage to get her name out, but your voice rasps painfully in your throat.

She squeezes your fingers, then her other hand appears in your line of sight holding a cup containing ice chips. "Here," she says, and brings the cup to your mouth. You open it eagerly and take a couple of ice chips onto your tongue, where they slowly melt.

"What's – " You begin, then have to pause and breathe through an intensely sharp flare of pain in your leg. "What's the damage?" 

"You took two bullets, Phil," she says, tightening her grip on your hand. "One in your left leg – just missed your kneecap, and one in your side – it hit just below the bottom edge of your Kevlar vest."

"How long?" you ask, unable to get more words out.

"You've been out of it for twenty-four hours," she says. She looks shaky, you think, and you squeeze her fingers, then ease your arm back, wondering if she'll understand what you're trying to convey. Fortunately she does, and she lets go of your hand just long enough to bend down and remove her boots before she climbs up onto the edge of your bed. 

"Where're we?" you mumble as she settles in beside you, tucking her left hand under her cheek as she lies on her side facing you, while her right hand clasps yours again.

"The Infirmary in The Cocoon," she tells you, and that's a huge relief because it means no one is going to tell her to move when they find her here. "You're going to be out of action for a little while, Agent." 

You wonder if she's expecting you to object, but right now you don't have the energy. You hurt too much, which makes you suspect whatever painkillers they gave you are starting to wear off.

"Phil." Her hand touches your cheek and you realise that your eyes had closed without you noticing. "Let me call Bobbi," she says, sitting up and reaching over to press a buzzer behind the bed.

Moments later Bobbi appears, and you see her blink at the sight of Daisy on the side of your bed, but she doesn't comment, she just says, "It's good to see you're awake, Phil."

"Bobbi," you manage.

"I think the drugs are wearing off," Daisy tells the older woman, and she checks her watch, then nods.

"I'm going to decrease the dose this time," Bobbi tells you both. "Because we want to begin assessing you properly now you're awake."

"'kay."

"Tell me if it gets too bad," Daisy tells you, "and I'll help." She waggles her fingers at you, her way of indicating that she'll use her powers.

"Yeah." You watch as Bobbi adjusts the IV hanging beside your bed, then she makes a note on the chart hanging on the foot of the bed.

"I'll tell the others that you're awake, Phil, but I don't plan on letting anyone else in here besides Daisy, not just yet."

"Thanks."

"I'll bring you something to eat in a bit," Bobbi says. "For now, just rest."

You manage a brief, jerky nod, and she goes out.

"What happened to Casey?" you ask Daisy.

Her expression lightens immediately from the sombre one she'd worn while Bobbi was around. "We got her out," she says.

"Good," you say. "I'm glad." Casey's a newly transformed Inhuman, a teenager who'd accidentally set her friend's car on fire with her unexpected pyrotechnic powers. (No one had been in the car, fortunately.) You and Daisy's team had gone to pick her up, and run into the local vigilante group, who'd taken exception to not being allowed to – well, torture her to death, seemed to have been the plan. Three older teenage boys and four adult men, all heavily armed, had tried to prevent Daisy from taking Casey away.

"How did the vigilantes fare?"

"Three injured – broken wrists for two of the teenage boys, broken ribs for the Hell's Angel biker guy, and all seven them disinclined to mess with the likes of me and Casey ever again," she says.

You wince. You know that Daisy doesn't like hurting civilians, if she can possibly avoid it, but at the same time, she will always prioritise the safety of a newly transformed Inhuman over anyone else – you think it's a good policy, particularly when armed vigilantes get involved.

She has settled herself more comfortably on your bed since Bobbi's visit, her head resting on your right shoulder, and her right arm resting carefully across your middle. Her left arm is under you, her hand curled around your left shoulder, and you realise that you're starting to fall asleep again.

"You can go back to sleep, Phil," she says, doing that uncanny thing where she 'reads' your thoughts via whatever expression's on your face combined with whatever your vibrations are doing. "I've got you. You're safe now."

She lifts her head and presses her lips against your cheek, very lightly and carefully.

"Daisy," you say.

"Don't worry, I'll wake you when the food comes. And I'll keep the nightmares away."

"Thanks." Your voice sounds slurred and within minutes you can feel consciousness slipping away again. The last thing you hear, right on the edge between consciousness and unconsciousness is her whispering: "I love you, Phil." You're asleep before you can answer her.

9 – When words aren't enough 

Sometimes words aren't enough, you think, as you brush your fingertips gently down Coulson's scar. He shudders, as he always does, and you lean over to kiss your way down the puckered ridge of flesh.

"Daisy," he moans.

Then again, your name in his mouth has always been enough to make you long for him. You remember the million ways he used to say 'Skye', and how that name had never sounded as good from anyone else as it did on his lips and tongue. It's not a name he's ever used while in the midst of making love to you, and sometimes you're tempted to ask him to use it, just once, just to see how it sounds when he moans, or gasps, or cries out 'Skye' while he's in the throes of passion. 

"Phil," you whisper, and lean back up to kiss him softly on the mouth. This is your first attempt to have sex since he got shot a few weeks ago: you've given him hand jobs and blow jobs, and you've sat on his face while he ate you out, but this is the first time you've attempted penetrative sex. You'd asked Bobbi, privately of course, how long to wait, and she'd assured you that since Coulson heals quickly, it was already safe for him, health-wise, to indulge.

He's lying on his back, while you're lying on your side on his right, and as you kiss him, you lift your body over his, straddling his thighs and pressing your breasts against his chest. His cock's rigid against his belly and you can feel the tip leaking precum against your skin as you move in a rocking motion against him.

"Daisy!" His loud gasp is enough to persuade you to take hold of his cock and guide it into your sex, which is already slick with arousal so that he slides easily inside you.

You moan once he's buried as deep as you can take him, and you feel your muscles tightening involuntarily around his cock – as it's been a few weeks since your last fuck, he feels enormous, and you're aware that you're already very close to a climax. You begin to rock your hips against his, and he clasps your waist as you move. 

You're reminded of the first time you had sex, and how nervous he'd been about touching you with his prosthetic hand – when you'd asked why, he'd eventually admitted that 'Roz' hadn't want him to touch her with it. That piece of information had made you furiously angry, although you'd done your best to hide it from Coulson, so you'd done the only thing that seemed likely to convince him that you didn't care that his hand wasn't made of flesh and blood: you'd guided his left hand to your sex and persuaded him to finger you with it – an occasion when words simply weren't enough to prove your sincerity to him.

As you ride him, you do your best to keep yourself aware of the spots where the bullets penetrated – you don't want to overdo anything, even though Bobbi's assured you that it's perfectly safe.

Eventually, though, you forget your worries, too caught up in pleasure and sensation to worry unduly, particularly when you climax for the first time.

After you come the first time Coulson grabs your hips and thrusts harder, and you lie down on top of him, instead of sitting upright, then wrap your arms around him and flip the two of you over so that he's on top. He gasps your name, taken completely by surprise, and you can't help smirking a bit. He leans down and kisses you, open-mouthed and dirty, and you kiss back for a bit, then bury your face in his shoulder when he picks up the pace of his thrusts. 

You climax a second time, your teeth in his flesh to stop yourself from screaming his name because the second orgasm feels like an explosion inside you. You reach down between your bodies and begin to vibrate the air over your clit and his cock as he fucks you even deeper and harder, and then you're coming together, his name in your mouth overlapping with your name in his.

You pull him down on top of you, and wrap your arms around him, pressing his body firmly against yours. His weight is comforting, his body familiar, and you think, not for the first time, how lucky you are that a man in a dark suit once came to kidnap you from your van in order to save another man's life.

"Phil." You murmur his name by his ear, then scratch your fingernails lightly through his hair, and he mutters "Daisy" into your neck. Sometimes words, words like 'Daisy' and 'Phil', are enough, taken together with bodies pressed close together, limbs entangled, and hearts beating in unison.

10 – Sharing a drink 

"What are you drinking?" you ask Daisy as you sit down beside her on the bench on the veranda behind The Retreat.

"Mint flavoured hot chocolate," she says with a smirk.

You raise your eyebrows. "That's a thing?" you ask doubtfully. "Or did you just throw some mint into a mug of hot chocolate?"

"It's a thing," she says cheerfully, then holds the mug out to you.

You wrap your hand around hers, lift the mug, and take a mouthful, then make an appreciative noise in the back of your throat because it's surprisingly good. You reluctantly let her pull the mug back as she asks, "And what are you drinking?"

"Nothing so tasty," you tell her. "Just coffee with a shot of whisky in it." You shrug. "I thought it'd be more warming."

"Can I?" she asks, gesturing towards your mug.

"Sure." You hold the mug out, and she copies your gesture, wrapping her hand around yours, then takes a long sip.

"Mmm," she says contemplatively. "I think I prefer my mint hot chocolate."

"So do I," you admit, and she chuckles. 

"Maybe if you're a good boy, Phil, I'll make you one."

You raise your eyebrows. "When am I ever not good?" you ask in mock-indignation.

She smirks, then gets up and comes to sit on your lap, and you can't help moaning as she settles her weight over you. "I think you might need to be extra specially good for me to make you mint hot chocolate," she tells you.

You put your mug aside. "What do you have in mind?" you ask breathlessly – you can feel your cock stiffening and lengthening inside your pants, and you clasp her hips as she shifts about, clearly responding to the way your hard-on is making itself felt.

"I think maybe you should make good use of this," she says, and cups your cock through the fabric of your pants.

"Out here?" you ask in surprise – it's cold (which was why you were drinking coffee with a whisky shot in it), and Daisy's not wearing a dress or skirt, so she'd have to take her pants off for you to fuck her.

"Mmhmm. We can always warm up with a shared shower afterwards."

"If you're sure you're not going to get too cold," you say, going for the belt on her jeans.

"Don't worry, Phil, I'm pretty tough." She smirks, and you shrug, then get her jeans undone. She moves off your lap long enough to slide her pants down her legs, and you moan appreciatively at the sight of her toned legs. She grins properly, then eases her panties down as well, and you note that there's already a wet spot on the crotch.

"Fuck, Daisy," you moan.

She unfastens the belt on your slacks, then the button and zipper, before she carefully eases your swollen cock free. You groan when she flicks her thumb over the head, then clasp her hips as she positions herself over your lap, sinking down as she holds your cock steady.

You groan loudly as your dick fills her slick pussy, and she moans your name, then leans in to kiss you, hot and hungry. 

"C'mon, Phil. Fuck me already. I don't wanna freeze my bits off."

You choke back a laugh, then tighten your hold on her hips, lifting her up until only the head of your cock is still inside her. She sinks back down and grunts as you bottom out. You soon have a good rhythm going, and she comes fast and hard, her pussy muscles tightening around your cock so that you have to stop thrusting until they relax again. One of the many things you love about Daisy is how responsive she is during sex – she comes easily and often, and she looks gorgeous while she's climaxing.

You resume thrusting, aware that your own orgasm isn't all that far away now she's come once. She can sense it too, you know, so you're not surprised when she starts vibrating the air over her clit and your cock which, as always, gets you off quickly.

She leans in and kisses you sloppily. "You've been a very good boy, Phil," she tells you. "I'm definitely going to make you a mint hot chocolate as soon as we've had a shower."

"Thank you," you say graciously, and she chuckles, then tightens her muscles around you once more before she lifts herself off your lap.

You tuck your spent cock back away, then refasten your pants, before picking up Daisy's jeans and panties. You hand them both to her, then scoop her up into your arms, making her squeal in surprise, then carry her the short distance inside.

"You're a maniac," she tells you, giggling madly.

You smirk at her, then set her down on her feet just outside the bathroom door. "Yeah, but you still love me," you say.

She rolls her eyes, then grabs your upper arms and plants a smacking kiss on your mouth before darting into the bathroom, leaving you reeling.

Following her inside more slowly, you can't help feeling grateful that Mack had suggested the two of you take a few days off after months of back-to-back ops that had begun to take their toll physically on Daisy. You plan on cooking lots of filling meals for her to help rebuild her strength, and enjoying plenty of sex and sleep, and not much else. And you hope that no big emergency comes up to require Daisy's attention.

11 - One missed call 

You look up as Mack walks into Daisy's office at The Cocoon. His expression is sombre, and your gut clenches.

"I'm sorry, Phil," he begins. 

"No," you say angrily, getting to your feet so quickly that the chair falls over behind you. "Don't say it. It's not true." You ball your hands into fists and he stops a few feet away.

"I'm afraid it is true," he says softly. "They just pulled Daisy's body from the rubble. I'm so sorry, Phil, but she was already gone."

"NO!" You yell the word loudly, then rush at him, your left arm swinging up for a blow. Mack catches your wrist before your punch can connect, then he pulls your body against his, and he wraps his arms around you, and the gesture surprises you so much that all the fight goes out of you immediately.

"I can't believe it," you tell him, suddenly breathless. "I can't believe it. She can't be gone. She can't."

"May's already on her way back," Mack tells you gently. "She's about half an hour away."

"Why didn't I go with them?" you ask. You know it's a stupid question – you're pretty sure that if you had gone, you wouldn't have been able to do anything to help save Daisy, but you know you'll always blame yourself for not being there at that moment.

"It wouldn't have helped," Mack says, unconsciously echoing your sentiments. "We both know that Daisy would've literally drained herself dry using her powers if it meant saving someone else's life."

"Is that what happened?" you ask, feeling another stab of guilt. If only you'd remained at The Retreat, enjoying your few days off. But as soon as Daisy had heard that twin Inhumans boys aged around 11 or 12 had been reported missing, possibly kidnapped, she'd wanted to go and investigate, and you'd let her go (you know you couldn't have stopped her, not realistically, but still). 

"Yeah," Mack says heavily. "She tracked John and James to where they were being held – don't ask me how – and she broke into the building, and was using her powers to tunnel out underneath the building. Apparently the assholes who took the boys had rigged the building with explosives, and when Daisy had got the boys about two thirds of the way out, the bastards blew the place. She managed to tunnel far enough for the boys to crawl out the last few yards, but she hadn't the strength to stop the roof collapsing on her. James told Joey that Daisy was bleeding from her nose and ears."

"Oh Daisy." You find yourself clinging to Mack as sobs wrack your body, and you're grateful that he just holds you and waits until your tears are over.

"Come on," he says. "May should be here any minute. Let's go and see our girl."

"Yeah," you say, your voice rasping in your throat from your crying jag. "Sorry about – "

"Don't," he says immediately, his tone gentle but firm. "It doesn't matter."

"Thanks." 

You walk out of Daisy's office side by side, and you wonder how the hell you're going to cope now.

AC-S-AC-S-AC

Hours have passed and you're still in a daze of disbelief when you discover your cell phone's switched off. You're baffled, because you don't remember turning it off, but you turn it on and find there's one missed call. You feel as if your heart's lodged itself in your throat as you see that Daisy has left you a voicemail. You stare at the screen for a long time before you finally play the message.

"Hey Phil, why's your phone off? Not too clever, Agent." Her voice is bright and cheerful, and full of fond exasperation, you notice. You listen intently as she tells you the details of what's happening – that she's managed to track down the location of the building where James and John have been taken by hacking the local street cameras and the security cameras on various buildings.

"I'm just calling to let you know that I'm just about to go in after the boys. With luck I'll have them out safe and sound within the hour, and May should have us back at The Cocoon less than an hour after that. I'm counting on you to provide something good to eat on my return, maybe mac and cheese, and I thought we could ask Mack to let us head back to The Retreat late tomorrow for another few days. Anyway, Phil, we can talk about it when I get back. See you in a couple of hours, okay?" You hear her making kissing noises into the phone before the call ends, and you realise you're crying all over again.

12 – Tears 

After Roz died, you hardly cried at all – you were numb with shock, then you were furiously angry with Ward – but you feel as if you haven't stopped crying since Daisy died three days ago. You're not the only one, of course, but everyone else seems to be making more of an effort to be discreet, something that you're incapable of being.

You're curled up on the couch in Daisy's office, your cell in your hand – you've just listened to her final voicemail for the umpteenth time, and you're wishing that she'd come back, or that she hadn't gone in the first place, when Joey comes hesitantly into the room, Alisha at his shoulder.

"Agent Coulson," he says, then stops and wipes his eyes, and you remember Joey was the first Inhuman Daisy saved from the ATCU, and that he basically adored her.

"Joey." Your voice is cracking as much as his, you notice.

"I – uh – I have something for you."

You frown at him as you realise he's holding a familiar looking SD card between the tips of his thumb and forefinger. You push yourself up off the couch, demanding, "Where'd you get that?"

"Coulson." Alisha only says your name, but her tone contains a warning, and you try to back down.

"Sorry, Joey. But, where did you get that?"

"I found it in my bunk," he says. "It was in an envelope with my name on it – Daisy had put it in there, with a note that said – " He swallows, then continues, "If anything happens to me, give this to Phil." He proffers the memory card and you take it.

"Thank you," you say, and he nods, then goes out with Alisha's arm protectively around his shoulders.

You stare at the tiny memory card, recalling the first time you saw it, and the emotions you and Daisy shared that day when she first told you of her quest to find out more about her family. Swallowing hard, you walk across to her desk and pick up the tablet lying there, then slot the memory card in place.

You see there's a video file on it, named Phil, and you carry the tablet back across to the couch and after a moment's dithering, hit the Play button.

Your heart catches in your throat again as you see Daisy, looking sleepy and rumpled in a tank and a pair of shorts, sitting cross-legged on the bed you shared.

"Hey Phil. So, I'm recording this, but hoping you never have to see it," she says. "But just in case." She swallows visibly, before continuing. "If you are watching this, it means I've died. Probably killed by my own recklessness, knowing me." She gives you a smile. "Look, Phil, I know you're gonna be a mess if I get killed. I recall how badly you took the loss of Roz, and you hadn't known her that long. I also recall Jemma's stories about how you reacted when Quinn shot me, so I'm guessing that you're heading for a bad place. I noticed you were depressed after Ward killed Roz and then you killed him – of course I noticed – we weren't sleeping together then, but I knew you well enough to spot the signs. So please do me a favour, talk to Andrew, okay."

She sighs, then rubs a hand over her face. "I'm not going to tell you not to try to take your revenge, if my death was caused by someone you can specifically identify, but I'll ask you to consider whether or not it will do you any good. Short term, it might make you feel better, but longer term? Probably not so much. I know Ward was kind of a special case, given he'd hurt all of us one way or another, but I can't forget how closed off you were after you came back from the other planet. So I'm gonna repeat my earlier request, Phil, and ask you to talk to Andrew. You know he'll help you."

You see her glance away from the camera for a moment, her head tilted as if she's listening to something, and it occurs to you that she recorded this while you were somewhere in the vicinity, and you wonder if she somehow knew what was coming. You shake your head, almost immediately rejecting the idea. It's more likely that the sequence of back-to-back missions that had taken an enormous toll on her had prompted the video.

"Phil, if I am dead, then I'm really sorry, okay. I'm sorry that I've left you on your own. I'm sorry that I've hurt you by dying when we've had hardly any time together. I wanted years with you – years of you cooking me meals, including your delicious grilled cheese; years of you making dorky jokes and exchanging ridiculous banter with me; years of my body and yours curled up together in sleep or engaged in sex – whether tender or rough; years of me easing your pain with my hands and powers; years of you easing my pain with your gentle words and touches." 

She stops, clearly affected emotionally by her own words, and you realise you're crying so much you can hardly see her face any longer. You hit the pause button, then try to dry your eyes enough to watch the remainder – there's not much left. Eventually you swallow hard, then hit play again.

"God Phil, I want so much for you, and for us, and I reckon we're probably not gonna get most of what I want, not with the lives we lead. But I want you to know and remember this – I am deeply grateful for what we did have – you dared to take a chance on a Rising Tide hacktivist, and it meant the world to me. You mean the world to me. No matter how many or few years we've had together, I've loved the time we had together, even before you became my lover. I love you, Phil, always have, always will. Take care of yourself – for my sake if not your own – and try not to do anything desperate. I love you." She blows you a kiss, and you realise you're sobbing loudly as the video finishes playing.

A hand touches your shoulder as a voice says your name, and you look up to see May standing over you. She looks down at the tablet you're still clutching, then sits down besides you, gently takes it from your hand, and wraps her arms around you. And you think it must be bad if May's hugging you. Then you wonder if it will ever get better without Daisy to help you.

**Author's Note:**

> I knew, once I started writing the final two parts of this fic, that I was going to piss people off because the Skoulson fandom doesn't do angst well. And they really hate unhappy endings! And while I'm very sorry for upsetting people, I'm not gonna lie - I never thought of changing the ending.
> 
> And look at it this way - at least you've got two more fics from me to come for this Fest - and I PROMISE they've both got a happy ending! Just try not to hate me too much for this, okay? Please?


End file.
